


with open eyes so we could see

by peterdonaldson



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, i guess, louise is a babe and phil is tired of waiting, pining dan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-07
Updated: 2015-03-07
Packaged: 2018-03-16 16:56:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3495893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peterdonaldson/pseuds/peterdonaldson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In retrospect, Dan thinks it’s pretty ironic that it’s the internet which diagnoses the fact that he has an actual, legitimate crush on Phil.</p><p>based on the prompt of nervous dan scared of his own ‘ironic’ crush on phil and phil being really nice about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	with open eyes so we could see

**Author's Note:**

> for [agnes](http://gaylittlemix.tumblr.com), with whom i spent many hours discussing phan on skype and snapchat, and who sent me a the prompt - i kind of deviated from this a tiny bit and i haven’t written a lot in well over a year but i hope you enjoy it!!

It’s a Saturday morning the first time it happens, and Dan’s halfway through his second bowl of Lucky Charms. He makes a point of eating at least three on the weekends, because otherwise breakfast would be no more exciting than it is on, say, a _Tuesday_ , and then what would be the point? He usually starts feeling a bit queasy once he’s finished bowl number two, earlier if he’s taking his time, and for a moment he thinks that’s what this must be – Phil’s just walked into the room, glasses looking kind of wonky and fogged up from the heat of the coffee he’s sipping, and Dan’s stomach does this weird sort of… wiggle? Is that the word for it? It’s remarkably similar to how any intestinal unsettlement usually feels, anyway, so he just shuffles up to make room for Phil on the sofa and tries to ignore it – supposing that that much marshmallow for breakfast was going to catch up with him eventually, however much he might pretend otherwise. And that’s that… until it’s not.

-

The next time it happens, he’s been wedged into his sofa crease for a good half an hour and is comfortably scrolling his way through a load of vines on his phone, mentally keeping a checklist of ones to show Phil later. Phil happens to actually be sat just across the room, trying to sort out some dodgy wire connection in their TV, but Dan’s not getting up just to show him a video of some penguins chasing a butterfly and Phil’s far too determined to fix the TV himself to shuffle across the room and watch it with Dan. So they’re sat there, in a kind of nice quiet that’s been typical of them recently, until Phil huffs in defeat and stands up.

‘I’m going to make a cup of coffee, do you want one?’

‘Ngh,’ says Dan in response, and Phil just nods because he’s fluent in Dan-ish and has been for years, before shuffling out of the room in his weird new alien slippers. Dan hears him getting the mugs out and flips back to the tab of the vine with the really tired baby and the puppy just in time to catch Phil shuffling back through the door. He grabs his coffee and knocks half of it back without thinking, then nearly ruins his iPhone as he chokes and the scalding liquid comes spraying out of his mouth.

‘Are you trying to fucking murder me?’

Phil snorts and takes Dan’s phone, keying in the passcode as easily as he would on his own (and honestly, Dan would get so pissed if it was anyone else, but frankly there’s almost definitely nothing on his phone more incriminating than some of the things Phil knows about him). He presses the little full screen button, and watches as the tiny pixelated puppy desperately tries to prop up the yawning baby rapidly falling asleep on him. His smile is fleeting for a moment, and then he lets out this weird little _giggle_ as the puppy gives in and lets the video play again. His eyes are scrunched up and his hand flies up to his face for a moment, and in that second Dan is suddenly quite literally _blinded_.

Okay, what the fuck.

He shakes his head after a moment, but he definitely didn’t have too many Lucky Charms this morning (he’s been cutting back) and the video’s played back four times before he can yank his phone back out of Phil’s hand. Phil’s face looks honestly heartbroken at the separation because he’s always cared too much about cute animals, the fucking loser, and Dan just smirks to hide the fact that he’s starting to maybe panic a bit. What’s wrong with him? Is he getting those migranes again? Could it be some kind of weird too-much-time-in-front-of-the-computer thing? Oh jesus, what if it’s something bad like, God knows, a fucking ulcer or something –

‘I think we’re gonna have to call someone about this,’ says Phil, who has apparently retreated back to his spot on the floor next to the malfunctioning TV and is now fumbling haphazardly with the wires. ‘I swear I am honestly doing everything the little book says? Unless this is the book for the old TV, which, okay, it could be, but I don’t think it is? Why doesn’t it like me, I don’t understand, have I offended the satellite dish or something…’

He rambles on, but Dan doesn’t really hear him, settling back into his sofa crease with a hand on his forehead and a worried expression.

-

In retrospect, Dan thinks it’s pretty ironic that it’s the internet which diagnoses the fact that he has an actual, legitimate crush on Phil. He’s been googling his symptoms and getting very worried (it was looking frighteningly like he might have tuberculosis at one point) but after accidentally clicking on the advice section of Cosmopolitan’s website, he discovers he can’t stop reading. The further down the column he gets, the more the horror wells up inside him and, oh god, this can’t be happening, this cannot be actually real –

Is this, like, some existential crisis thing? Is he self-doubting? Have the fans finally got inside of his head? Oh god, is this – is this an _ironic_ crush?

To be fair, if anyone could end up ironically falling in love with someone it would be him, he thinks. Not that he’s actually _in_ love, jeez, leave him alone, holy shit, panic time –

Breathe, he thinks. Just breathe. He’ll get past this, he always does, but for god’s sake does it really have to be Phil, who he _lives_ with? Proof that the universe hates him, right there. Crushes as a rule haven’t exactly been his forte for the past twenty three years, and now how is he supposed to get over this when the person he cares about is around literally him 24/7? Especially when Phil’s always doing stupid _things_ like making him cups of coffee and ordering his favourite pizza without even asking and sometimes he gets this quiet, focused look on his face when he’s concentrating on something and it’s something so genuine and private that it makes Dan want to tear his hair out.

Holy god.

There’s only really one person for this, he thinks, and sighs as he digs his phone out of his pocket to scroll to Louise’s number.

*

Okay, so Dan knows everyone says this, but Louise is _such_ good hugger. She has this ability to completely envelope him in love and of course that’s the first thing she does as soon as he manages to get the words out of his mouth.

‘Okay, so – I don’t – right. I might have a crush on Phil?’

She throws her arms around him immediately, and he thinks he might have heard her call him a muffin, and squeezes him for a long minute before asking in that warm voice of hers if he wants her to pop the kettle on. She’s off into the kitchen before he can respond, and pressing a floral mug full of steaming tea into his hand the next minute. She sits down next to him and he can feel her eyes studying him.

‘What – what exactly do you _mean_ by crush?’

Dan’s semi prepared for this. He knows full well this isn’t a proper real genuine love-of-his-life crush, he knows it’s just a close proximity thing, it has to be, but for some reason under Louise’s gaze that doesn’t feel like a sufficient answer.

‘Right. Okay.  So it’s like, not a proper crush thing, not really, I just – he’s around me all the time and I haven’t dated anyone in ages and you know I appreciate irony more than most people on the planet and it’s just an extension of that really, it must be, he’s just feeling a lot more – he’s important, you know? He’s Phil? And I don’t – he’s always _there_ , and there’s the fans as well, it’s difficult not to let what they say get to you sometimes, and I just think that everything’s kind of piling up and this is how it’s decided to manifest itself and you know what I’m like and I’m just worried he’ll figure it out before… before I manage to get over it, and - ’

He’s stammering more with every second, and his chest is starting to get really tight, and Louise puts down her mug.

‘Have you tried talking to him?’

She isn’t forcing anything, and he loves her for that, he really does, but this is all so terrifying and he knows it shouldn’t even be a big deal and why the fuck is this happening to him –

‘I – no. I haven’t. And – I really don’t want to, Louise,’ he takes a breath, ‘I really, really don’t.’

‘I know.’ She nods, and then smiles, putting her mug down on the table in front of them. ‘Right, okay, you’re going to help me script my next video now, because you’re fantastic at pacing and you know it and I keep getting stuck! You know I like to improvise but basic outlines are always useful…’

He grins, and stands up. Louise is a fantastic friend.

*

Of course, none of the attempts he’s currently making are actually _resolving_ the issue currently at hand, be it him talking to Louise or just sitting panicking in his room until 4am. He knows Phil knows something’s up, Phil’s intuition is quite frankly frightening on occasion and right now it’s the opposite of what Dan needs. He keeps catching Phil looking at him concernedly, across the room or even while they’re filming a gaming video. He brushes any questions off with his usual level of sarcasm and things aren’t too awkward, but they aren’t _right_ either. It’s horrible and he needs to sort himself out but more than anything he’s just so confused because this isn’t a big deal and it isn’t real and he’s tired of it.

It all comes to a head late one night when they’ve just finished editing a Sims gaming video. It’s technically early morning, and Dan’s in the middle of sending a tweet (‘new gaming video tomorrow night!! dil didn’t break a single plate today so get ready for a wild one with some serious banter #ladz’) when he hears Phil’s voice from behind him.

‘Are you angry with me?’

Dan presses send, then turns around so they’re both facing each other in their swivelly chairs. ‘What?’

Phil looks down, fiddling with his jumper cuffs.

‘Sorry, I’m being stupid, you’ve just been a bit off recently and I didn’t know if I’d done something? You get all irritable and I know you haven’t been feeling great…’

Dan swallows, feeling his heartrate increase exponentially. ‘I’m – I’m fine, I promise. I think I might be a bit ill – I bet it’s those bloody Lucky Charms, I told you they were a bad investment in the long run…’

He trails off, and Phil is still looking at him, and his heartbeat must be audible at this point.

‘You aren’t ill, Dan. You’re extremely melodramatic if you have even the slightest cold – yes you are, you know you are – and you’ve just been really quiet and it’s not very nice? I don’t know what’s happened, but I don’t like being off with you.’

Phil looks genuinely miserable and, god, is this just going to be Dan’s life, messing things up all the time? Things had been going to great, his life had been better than ever before this stupid crush had come along and ruined everything, and maybe he should just _tell_ him, actually no he definitely shouldn’t, oh god oh god oh god –

‘Have I messed up our friendship in some way or something? I’m really, really sorry, whatever it is, I promise I’ll - ’

‘Look, I might fancy you a bit, okay?’ Dan blurts out before he can stop himself, and he has just enough time to see Phil’s eyes widen before he does the most mature thing he can in this situation and swivels his chair so he’s looking in the opposite direction.

The room is silent only for a few seconds, but it feels like a lifetime dragging on and on. Dan can hear his heartbeat in his _ears_ and this is absolutely horrendous.

It’s Phil who breaks the silence.

‘…really?’

Dan squeezes his eyes shut, takes a deep breath, and nods.

Phil _laughs_.

Dan spins straight back around at that, unable to believe his ears. But when he sees Phil’s face, the only emotion he can pick out is… relief?

‘Oh my god,’ says Phil, a smile broad across his entire face. ‘Oh my god, Dan, I was so _worried_ , you have no idea, I thought you were ill or something – why didn’t you just _tell_ me?’

Dan is in disbelief. He literally can’t believe this. In all of his agonising and imagining, he’d never factored laughter into any confession he might have to make, didn’t factor anything of the sort, and this is so bizarre that he laughs for a moment too – it’s only a quiet exhalation, but it feels like relief to him too for a second.

‘I don’t – well, I guess – like, why _would_ I have told you? You’re my best friend and all of a sudden I made everything all weird with this really inconvenient and badly-timed crush thing and I could have ruined everything? How was I supposed to know you’d _laugh_ , oh my god – stop it!’

Phil just keeps laughing, and Dan can’t quite understand where all this happiness is coming from – relief that your friend isn’t ill is one thing, and Phil is just about the closest any human can get to being a literal Disney woodland creature, but for fuck’s sake, Dan’s just told him he has a crush on him, surely that should have evoked some kind of concern?

Their eyes meet. Jesus Christ, Phil’s eyes crinkle when he laughs, and Dan is so, so fucked.

Of course, this delicate and potentially kind of romantic moment is the moment that Phil chooses to lean over and try and give Dan a hug, forgetting that he’s seated on a highly precarious swivel chair, and promptly goes crashing to the floor.

Amidst the further laughter that follows as Dan drags his bruised friend up from the floor, he feels an odd sense of contentment. Phil knows now, it’s clearly not a big deal, and whatever happens next feels like it’ll be… natural. Like it’s supposed to happen. So, for once in his life, he decides to just let whatever’s going to happen happen and not worry about it as he helps a complaining Phil limp down the hallway and into his bedroom. They manage to get through the door after more wiggling than is probably strictly necessary, tripping over each other and landing on the bed with the same lightheaded laughter, and then they’re just lying there, looking at each other, and Dan is forcing himself to do normal things like breathe properly and not blink at 100 times a minute and oh god, what does he normally do with his hands, just in general, where do they go? By his sides, near his head, what’s he doing, this is _Phil_ – breathe. Breathe, he reminds himself, and suddenly everything is very, very quiet again.

Phil smiles at him, and his eyes are droopy with tiredness.

‘You’re such an idiot,’ he says, eyes still crinkling, and tugs at the duvet so it covers him before shutting his eyes. Dan smiles, and he has no clue where they stand at the moment but it doesn’t appear to be bad so hey, he’ll roll with it.

‘You’re a massive loser man-child,’ he replies and drags the rest of the duvet over himself. He’s really, really tired – the clock on his bedside is telling him that it’s only 1:37am, but he can feel himself being pulled under by sleep and the warmth of Phil beside him is kind of soothing as he lets himself slip into unconsciousness.

*

The next morning Dan wakes up with a smile on his face, and he can’t remember why for a couple of minutes. His bed’s empty but it’s warm and he curls back up, planning to doze off again – until the night before comes crashing back with startling clarity and he sits bolt upright, suddenly wide awake. Where’s Phil?

He barely has time to start panicking before he hears the familiar sound of bare feet padding down the hallway, and his door creaks open to reveal a sleepy looking Phil concentrating very hard on making sure no tea escapes the shockingly bad design of their Hello Kitty mug. He sets his own cup down on the side and passes the tea to Dan, who feel disgustingly warm at the sight and surprisingly calm considering the pretty ambiguous ending to the previous night that he keeps remembering. Phil sits on the bed and the mattress dips. Dan closes his eyes for a moment.

‘Morning.’

‘Is it?’ Dan glances at the bedside clock – 11:39am. Just.

‘Are you feeling okay?’

‘I thought we clarified that I’m definitely not ill last night, okay, just a very tragic full time internet homo’ - Phil grins at that - ‘who should probably learn to control his weird fucking crushes and restrict them to _people he doesn’t live with_.’

At that, Phil frowns.

‘That sounds like a bad idea to me,’ he comments, shuffling a bit further up the bed, and right, that’s the calmness straight out of the window – ‘that sounds like a really, really bad idea actually.’

Dan’s heart is beating out of his chest again, fucking great, oh god, oh god, and Phil’s just maintaining incredibly loaded eye contact and fucking hell someone has to do something, so he prays to any deity that might be listening and the surges upwards to meet Phil’s lips before he can change his mind.

Holy motherfucking shit.

The atmosphere in the room changes in about three seconds flat. He’d thought that this would be something delicate and gentle but nope, its seems that Phil was just waiting on Dan’s affirmation as his whole body _lunges_ at Dan and his hands reach around, one knotting itself in his hair and the other clutching at his face. This is extremely intense and Dan absolutely does not care, shuffling to sit up and get a better angle because this is the best feeling on earth, absolutely nothing can ever beat this, surely it’s impossible. This has never been an option for them before, never – there was 2009, with all its implications and almost-happenings, but nothing had ever come of it and he’d been pretty certain that both of them had just repressed and written that off as a thing of the past. Clearly fucking not, though, as this is possibly the hottest thing that’s ever happened to him and Phil’s mouth is so warm and soft and at the same time so desperate, like he’s been waiting for this for years, like – like he feels the same way Dan does.

‘Sorry,’ whispers Phil when they finally break apart, and it’s a genuine apology. Dan almost laughs. ‘In my defence, it’s been nearly six years and we’ve never done that once, so I’m hoping you can kind of forgive the – um - ’

‘The fact that you literally just went from zero to hardcore sex mode in about two seconds?’ asks Dan, and this is amazing, just like the night before, his chest feels light and his mind feels clear and he hasn’t felt this happy in _months_. The irony behind this crush is pretty much out of the window at this point, if he can even call it a crush, but he just… doesn’t care? Right now, he has genuinely stopped caring. This is ridiculous. He’s Dan, he worries about everything, it’s what he does – just not with Phil, apparently.

Phil blushes at his words, then leans in again, and this time it’s sweeter, gentler. He’s seen this moment depicted a million times in graphics and fanart and even read it in fic – what, he gets curious sometimes – but he can’t believe how _tender_ it is, how completely at home he feels kissing Phil. It should be scary, but it just isn’t, and this time when they break apart they’re genuinely holding hands and there’s no going back now is there, no fucking way.

Phil strokes his thumb across the back of Dan’s hand and Dan says ‘no homo’ before he can physically restrain himself because, come on, was anybody expecting anything else, and suddenly the dynamic in the room shifts to the way it always was. Phil smirks and rolls to the side to prop himself up on the pillows next to Dan.

‘We’re going to have to tell people about this, you know,’ Dan says, and he puts on an apprehensive voice but his smile stays wide.

‘You need to stop worrying for one second and drink your tea, it’ll be cold in a minute,’ replies Phil, and his smile is brighter too, and as they sit there with their tea Dan thinks that maybe this kind of ironic crush might not be the worst thing in the world after all.

 

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed!! im ([here](http://pushingdaisies.co.vu)) on tumblr, come and say hi if you want :))


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